


And See Where it Goes

by spacegayofficial



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Home Invasion, Penis In Vagina Sex, Reader Insert, Vaginal Fingering, and of course....., but no one would believe jack daniels works at statesman and reader is no exception, is jack smith a creative cover? absolutely not, just not for several chapters, skirting on canon typical violence, smut starts in ch 5, someone gets shooooot aaaaaat, talking about previous attacks, though no one gets hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25045057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegayofficial/pseuds/spacegayofficial
Summary: You're an investigative journalist working for a newspaper in Louisville. You begin to look into why Statesman Distillery is spending more than twice as much as their main competitor, which lands you in an interview with one of their board members, who you know as Jack Smith.
Relationships: Jack | Whiskey/Reader
Comments: 17
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

Your job was, if not the exact definition of fun, extremely interesting. It took you to a lot of places, and you got to meet a lot of people, but the most rewarding was that you got to uncover secrets and injustices that were hurting people, and therefore cause positive change. Sometimes it got dangerous (which is why it wasn’t always the exact definition of fun); you’ve been sent threats and once you were even attacked, but in the end, it was worth it. People were safer, treated more fairly, and had better access to many resources because of your work. Still, though, sometimes it was nice to work on something a little more… low stakes.

You were an investigative journalist for a major newspaper out of Louisville, and had been for several years. Long enough that now, you mostly got to choose what to investigate rather than what your superiors wanted you to investigate. This time, it was Statesman Distillery.

It was more out of curiosity than anything. It was a distillery; whatever they’re spending so much money on, it likely wasn’t malicious, but it still struck you as… odd. The numbers that you found indicated that they were spending more than twice as much as their main competitor. You wanted to know what they were spending it on, and if it would maybe lead you to something bigger. Sometimes things like that are nothing, like secret research and development type things, but sometimes, you uncover corruption and activities that are shady at best, illegal at worst. You hoped that it ended up being nothing, in a way, since Statesman was fairly close to Louisville and their distillery tours were a big part of the economy when it came to tourism.

After countless emails and phone calls, you finally set up an interview at the distillery with one of their board members. A man who’d been a shareholder for the company for close to twenty years now. Based on your own research of him, he seemed to spend most of his time at their corporate headquarters in New York, so you weren’t sure why he was the one they set you up with or how you managed to get in at just the right time to talk to him, but you’d take it. To your surprise, practically no pictures existed of him, which you supposed was maybe a good call on his part. Maybe he was just a private person, didn’t want to be bothered. The pictures that did exist were in old newspaper articles covering 4H fairs and state and county fair competitions in Texas from the 80s and early 90s, when he was a kid doing horseback riding. They didn’t give you a great idea of what he looked like.

You have to admit you weren’t expecting an extremely charming, extremely good looking cowboy type who actually pulled off the mustache on his face.

He was well dressed, in dark jeans (you tried to ignore the absolutely ridiculous belt buckle) and a button up shirt with a tie and a blazer, with what you can only imagine was a genuine Stetson on his head. He wore gold-rimmed aviator style glasses that sat on a fairly unique, prominent nose. His smile was a little lazy and lopsided, but it was warm and inviting, and reached into his dark brown eyes.

 _Okay, cool it, you’re on the job, don’t be ridiculous,_ you thought to yourself as you met him just in front of the reception desk in the lobby of the office area of the Statesman distillery.

“Mr. Smith, it’s nice to finally meet you face to face,” you said, smiling and reaching your hand out.

“Same to you,” he responded, shaking your hand firmly. “And, please, it’s Jack.”

“Well, Jack, I hope you don’t mind if we get right to business, I just have a few questions,” you started, reaching into your bag for your notepad and pen.

“I don’t mind one bit,” he said. “But, I figured since you made your way all the way out here I’d give you a tour while you ask away. Might spark some new questions, who knows.”

You listen to people talk a lot in your line of work, but you could safely say you’d never heard a voice quite as nice as his.

“Oh! I’d love that, actually, I haven’t been on a tour here in years,” you told him, smiling. “In fact the one I took was right after I moved to Louisville.”

“Always glad to have repeat customers,” Jack said, motioning towards the door towards the rest of the facility. “I’ll be able to give you some behind the scenes peeks, too, and some things have probably changed since you last came through.”

“Thank you, that’s very generous,” you said, following his lead through a set of doors leading outside. “I imagine you’re busy, so I’m very grateful that you made time for this.”

“You’re absolutely welcome, I have to admit, though, I’m at a bit of a loss as to why an investigative journalist is lookin’ into our operations,” he said. “Especially one of your caliber. I remember you uncoverin’ what was goin’ on with those folks cuttin’ corners on that bridge over the Ohio, that was hard work.”

That story is what ultimately led the newspaper to start letting you do your own thing. You were somewhat surprised he recalled that that was you, though you supposed he could have looked into you a bit himself. “Thank you, yeah, that’s honestly probably the story I’m most proud of,” you told him. “I promise, though, I’m really just curious about a few things. Suspicion hasn’t led me here, if that’s what you’re wondering, but I’ll save my big question for last, if that’s okay?”

“You know how to do your job best, so ask whatever you want whenever you feel like it,” he answered, smiling as he took you to the observation area on their malting floor.

“Alright, so let’s start small. Obviously you guys are known for your whiskey, but do you make anything else? Rye, gin, even maybe beer?” you asked, readying your notepad and pen.

“We do focus mainly on our whiskey production, but yes, we have a few side projects,” Jack started.

The rest of the day continued much like this, asking questions about their current operations, future plans, and a few of their sponsorships and involvement with various charities. Jack seemed very much in his element, excited to talk about this company he clearly was passionate about. He seemed most proud of Statesman’s impact in the community and beyond with those charities, and talked mostly unprompted about some volunteer work some employees and fellow board members do. He was a bit vague about what the volunteer work was in, exactly, but you chalked that up to there being a lot of it to keep track of.

Despite this being a work venture, you felt comfortable enough in Jack’s presence to joke around a bit with him, something you wouldn’t normally do on the job. He had an undeniable southern charm about him, and you had to admit you liked it. Yes, you found him attractive from the moment you saw him, but hearing him speak so passionately, and joke around, and laugh made you more interested in him than _just_ finding him attractive. You couldn’t let him catch on to that, though, since you were a journalist on the job. You weren’t here to find a date. But you couldn’t help but hope he was just as interested in you.

Truth be told, Jack was very excited to be doing something so mundane for once. Of course, he was still suspicious as to why an investigative... anything, really, was looking so close to a secret organization fronted by a distillery, but the more you asked about the actual operations of the distillery, the more at ease he was, though he was piecing together what you were actually looking into, slowly but surely. Your questions were thoughtful, and each one charmed him a little bit more than the last. You were clearly passionate about your job, and he admired that. He almost wanted to do this again, but he hadn’t really picked up on any hint that you would. That was, until you nearly tripped and fell.

One of the boards in the floor of one of the warehouses they kept the barrels in for aging was curled up just enough that the toe of your shoe caught, and you nearly fell, a yelp of surprise leaving your lips. Your notebook and pen flew across the walkway. Jack’s hand shot out and grabbed your arm, pulling you back upright onto your feet, his other hand finding your shoulder to ensure you were steady.

“Careful there, darlin’, gettin’ hurt’s not part of the tour,” he said, that smile on his face, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You looked at him for a beat longer than you should’ve, trying to reconcile with yourself that his large, warm hand was wrapped around your arm. An innocent gesture, most definitely, but still, it made a light blush form on your cheeks. You could play that off as having almost eaten shit while simply trying to walk. But Jack knew better, based on that stare with your mouth open just a bit. He let go after a second, once he was sure you were steady.

“I--uh, thank you,” you said, clearing your throat and walking over to pick up your things.

“I’ll have someone fix that,” he responded, taking a step towards the exit, and therefore, the end of your tour. “You alright?”

You nodded, righting yourself with your notebook and pen again in your hands. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just caught me by surprise,” you said, laughing slightly.

Throughout your tour, you’d asked questions that should answer your overarching one; where all that money was going. And you’d need to do a bit more research to double check, but based on what you remember from your preliminary research, nothing seemed like it would warrant twice the spending as another similar distillery. This made you a bit disappointed, as you were hoping you’d uncover _something_ with the other, roundabout questions you had asked. Nothing unusual with side projects, about what you expected with charities, their research and development isn’t too busy considering they’re not making many innovations in making a drink that’s been around for centuries… something still didn’t add up.

Jack had caught on to what you were doing, though, based on the overarching theme to your questions; money. Anyone else wouldn’t have caught on, though, because you were good at your job and phrasing your questions carefully. He didn’t let on that he knew, of course, because he had to ensure you didn’t get the idea he had any suspicions about you, just in case. His gut told him that you truly weren’t here with malicious intent, but of course, everyone else agreed that they couldn’t be too careful.

“Well, I think that about does it,” Jack said, standing out in the warm sunshine of the late afternoon. “Any other questions?”

Part of you wanted to outright ask him your big question, but you didn’t want him clamming up. If he did that, you truly wouldn’t get anywhere with this. “No, not at the moment, anyway,” you said. “Though I may come up with more once I go through my notes. Would it be okay if I set up another appointment with you once I do that? Maybe next week sometime?” It took everything in your power to keep your tone professional and not eager. It was just an appointment, nothing more.

Jack grinned. “I’d be more than happy to have you come out again, but, let me give you this,” he said, digging in his blazer’s breast pocket for something. He produced a business card, embossed with the Statesman logo in gold to the left, with his information on the right. “Mind if I borrow your pen there for a second?”

“Sure, here,” you said, handing it over. On a blank part of the card, he wrote another phone number. You couldn’t deny that you got a couple butterflies in hopes that was his personal number, but you made yourself assume it was a direct number to his office or something.

He handed the card and the pen back to you. “Now, don’t go givin’ that out to anybody, but that is my cell number,” he said. “Shoot me a text or give me a call when you have more questions.”

You tried not to let the surprise, and excitement, you were feeling show on your face. “Oh, well, thank you again,” you said, holding onto it rather than putting it in your bag. “Despite being for work, I did have a lot of fun. I’ll have to come back to do the tour with some friends or something, when I can… y’know, actually drink.” You laughed a little bit, looking back up at Jack.

“Well you just let me know when you’re comin’ around next, and I’ll make sure you all get one of _my_ tours,” he said, smiling at you. “I very much enjoyed this, as well. Like I said, let me know when you have more questions.”

You put your hand out for another handshake. “I will. I’ll be in touch, Jack,” you said, and he shook your hand firmly again, nodding.

“I look forward to it,” he said, giving you a wink that made you blush a little bit again. “You have a safe drive home, now.”

And with that, you headed back to the parking lot and out to your car. You sat in the driver’s seat and started the car so you wouldn’t bake in the heat, and grabbed the card he’d given you. You picked up your phone, and quickly punched his name and his number into your contacts, lest you lose the little piece of cardstock.

* * *

As you walked away towards the parking lot, Jack turned to see a familiar face approaching, wearing a tan Stetson and a denim jacket.

“Tequila,” Jack said, acknowledging his presence.

“How’d it go?” he asked, patting Jack on the back.

“Good,” he responded, nodding, turning back to watch you walk away.

“You think she’s with them?” he asked.

“No, honestly, I don’t,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Too nice. Done too much through the newspaper. Still, I know Champ’ll want us to be on the safe side and look into it a little more.”

“Still don’t sit with me right someone’s investigating so close to us,” he said.

“I know, but she was askin’ a lot about money,” Jack said, turning back to face his fellow agent. “I think she’s just curious why we spend so much more than the other guys.”

“What do we tell her when she asks?”

Jack shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. We’ll figure it out.” He took a deep breath and started to head back inside, to further discuss this with his superior and some other agents. “I have a couple ideas to see if I can’t get a little more out of her.”

Tequila snickered. “I know what that means, Whiskey.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Think it’s gonna be a little more than that, this time.”

Tequila gasped like this was some kind of big scandal. “Does Agent Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels have a crush?”

“Shut the hell up, Tequila.”

* * *

You drove home, your mind racing with all the little things that you swore you were misconstruing because you thought he was attractive, but no, he was definitely flirting with you, wasn’t he? That made you smile like a moron in your car by yourself, but you didn’t really care. Maybe he was just like that, and you would be another short lived fling for him, but honestly, part of you was alright with that. You hadn’t had any successful long term relationships, so the idea of being a short lived fling with a board member of a successful distillery didn’t sound too terrible to you. At worst you get some mediocre sex and a few very nice dinners out of it. You barely knew him at this point, too, but you admit, you did want to know more. He piqued your interest, and part of that was because he didn’t talk about himself as much as people you interview usually do, which led you to believe your earlier hunch about him being a private person was correct. Though, the investigator in you wanted to know what he was being private about, and if it was anything interesting. Your first thought was that maybe he had a family, and while that could still be true, you didn’t see a ring on his finger, so he likely wasn’t married. You shook the thoughts away, trying to get back into work mode so you could put together some more questions for this investigation.

You arrived home, and set up on your dining table-turned-home office, with your laptop open and your messy notes next to you. You picked up your phone, looking at your new contact, and hesitated. Was it too early to send a thank you note? You’d usually do it as an email, but you suppose this was an... interesting exception. You shrugged, mumbling a ‘fuck it’ to yourself, and sent him a quick text, starting off with telling him who you were.

_I just wanted to thank you again for giving me that tour and answering my questions. I’ll let you know when I have more._

You went back to work, not expecting a quick reply, but a few minutes later your phone buzzed with a text back from him. It made you about squeal with excitement, partly because you realized someone who’d ask you this probably wasn’t looking for just a few nights in bed.

_You’re absolutely welcome. Tell you what, though, in the past few hours I’ve thought of a few of my own questions for you. How’s coffee sound? Saturday morning?_


	2. Chapter 2

“I just don’t think she’s a threat,” Jack insisted to his superior in their conference room.

“I know you don’t think so, and I’m inclined to believe you,” Champ responded. “But you and I both know that Prometheus is getting up to something big, they’re trying to buy that newspaper, _and_ she’s poking her nose places close to where she shouldn’t. We need to be better safe than sorry.”

“I’m afraid if we get too close to her we’ll drag her into this,” Jack argued. “I don’t disagree with you, but I think after this Saturday we need to let her do her little investigation, tell her a convenient lie, and let her go.”

Champ considered this for a moment. “That’s fine. But if something feels even a little bit off, you dig further until you find out what she’s about,” he said. “And if somethin’ goes wrong, she figures somethin’ out, we’ll need to take care of that, too.”

Jack sighed. “Yeah, I know. I’ll get this figured out. Anythin’ else?” he asked, standing from where he was seated at the table.

“No, I don’t think so, just keep your eyes and ears open, Daniels,” Champ said. There was a beat, then he spoke again. “Actually, there is one thing. Don’t go fallin’ for this girl, Jack. I know you.”

Jack gave a brief salute. “Yes, sir.”

With that, Jack walked out of the conference room and back to his office.

He slumped down in his chair, running a hand down his face. Don’t go falling for this girl. Yeah. He could go on a coffee date to find out more about you when he was already interested and then just forget about you. Right. Easier said than done, and it frankly wouldn’t be the first time he’d disobeyed an order and came out just fine. Though _falling_ was maybe jumping ahead too far. Maybe it’d turn out his hunch was wrong, and you really were working for Prometheus. Who knows what could happen in the next few days, or weeks, or however long it took for them to figure out what the hell was going on. He’d just have to take each day as it came.

* * *

Friday was a disaster.

“They’re trying to do _what?”_ you asked, almost shrilly.

“I know. We’re going to resist it as much as we can, but I… just wanted to give you a heads up,” your editor in chief said.

You were in your office, doing a few tasks unrelated to your current project for some little things for tomorrow’s paper, when the editor in chief for the newspaper dropped by to give you some pretty shitty news; a pretty large corporation, Prometheus, was attempting to purchase the paper. This was scary to you for one big reason: they were notorious for buying newspapers and firing the entire team to replace them with their own people. This was bad not only for you, but for the folks who actually used your paper to get decent local news. The people that worked here actually lived here, a lot of them for most of their lives, and had a good perspective on how even the little things would affect your community. The people they would replace you with were going to be coming in from other Prometheus-owned papers, and ruin the quality of the journalism you were doing.

You sighed. “I… appreciate it. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know,” you said. “I might not be able to do much, but you know. Better than nothing.”

She nodded, giving a small, sad smile. “Thanks. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

Great. You could lose your fucking job. Fantastic. Brilliant. What a way to start the weekend. This was insane. As if you needed another reason to hate Prometheus and their overbearing presence in this capitalist hellscape. If you could get your hands on Walter Jefferson, you’d strangle him yourself. You’d have the entire newspaper staff to back you up, too.

You took a deep breath. _Just get through this afternoon, and tomorrow morning you have a coffee date,_ you thought to yourself. _Just a little while longer._

* * *

The rest of the day and that night seemed to drag on. Finally, though, you were meeting Jack at a little cafe downtown at 9. He was clearly a morning person, because you had to weasel your way out of his proposed 8. Not that you minded, you needed to be at your job at 8 most days, but it _was_ Saturday, and you wanted to sleep in. Who could blame you? He didn’t seem too dead set on 8, responding with an agreement and smile emoji.

You were honestly pretty excited. Jack had asked you out to coffee just to… get to know you better. You didn’t usually do this kind of thing with people you met through work, let alone who you were currently investigating, but you couldn’t deny there was a certain something between the two of you that you would rather like to cultivate and see grow into something… a bit bigger.

You couldn’t really deny you were a bit nervous, though; work was a breeze, you had questions and a goal and structure. But a date? Sure, you had questions, but so did he, and that wasn’t something you were used to. There was no concrete goal, no structure. You were both just winging it.

The cafe was just a few blocks from your apartment, so you ended up walking. You were there a little bit early, but you were relieved to see that Jack was even earlier than you. He was leaning against the wall on the corner of the building, watching traffic pass by in front of the shop. He looked much more relaxed and comfortable than he did when you interviewed him earlier that week; still in dark jeans with that ridiculous buckle on his belt, but he’d swapped his dress shirt and blazer for a t-shirt and a leather jacket, and he wore dark aviator sunglasses along with his hat. He looked really good, but you were sure part of the appeal was the confidence he carried himself with.

You quickly crossed the street, then called out his name to get his attention. You waved, and he grinned back at you. He thought you looked incredible, too, also looking more relaxed than you were when he last saw you. Once again, he found himself hoping that you had nothing to do with Prometheus and this was all a weird coincidence. He had a good feeling about you for many reasons, and he couldn’t doubt his gut now.

As you approached, he took off his sunglasses and put them in his pocket. You could see the way the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Hey, thanks for comin’ out to see me,” he said, pushing himself off the wall to stand.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you replied, grinning right back. “I admit, I was pretty excited when you asked. I was sure I was somehow misinterpreting what was going on earlier this week.”

Jack laughed a little. “Well, that makes two of us. So, how do you like your coffee?”

He ushered you inside, and paid for both your coffees even though you insisted you could cover your own, and ordered a few pastries for you to share. You sat in a cozy booth in the corner, sitting across from each other in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a few moments. The barista brought over your order, and you immediately took a sip of your drink, humming at the flavor.

“I’m glad you picked this cafe, by the way,” you said, tapping the table with your fingertip as if to clarify which cafe you were talking about. “It’s my favorite in town.”

Jack gave you a look of pleasant surprise. “No way,” he responded. “I don’t get to this part of town as frequently as I’d like, but it’s one of mine, too.”

“Well, I just live a couple blocks away, so I walk down here all the time,” you explained, grabbing for a chocolate croissant on the plate of pastries that had been dropped off. “What a coincidence, huh?”

Jack chuckled quietly, nodding. “Yeah, a coincidence indeed,” he agreed. There was something to his tone there that you couldn’t quite discern, but you were sure it was nothing, and didn’t pay much mind to it. “So, you asked plenty of questions a few days ago, I figure it’s my turn, right? Tell me about yourself,” he suggested, taking a sip of his own coffee. He had ordered just black dark roast, which struck you as extremely fitting.

“That is technically not a question,” you respond, shooting him a teasing look.

“C’mon now, don’t be like that,” Jack teased back, smiling at you. Now he knew for sure that you had it in you to be a little snarky, which he definitely found attractive. If you can’t joke together, what’s the point?

“Alright, alright, I’ll indulge you,” you said, raising a hand in mock defeat. “Well, you know my name, you know what I do… I’ve lived here for about six years now, my job at the newspaper brought me here. I’m not from too far away in the first place, though. Hm… I enjoy reading, I’m not a bad cook…” You trailed off and told him about a few of your hobbies, but explained that you honestly didn’t have time for a lot of them with work and everything. “What about you? I asked you a lot of questions about your job, but I didn’t really ask about you.”

Jack smiled. “I suppose that’s fair.” He leaned back and took another sip of his coffee, likely thinking about where to start. “Well, you know my name, you know what I do,” he parroted, winking at you. Despite the teasing, lighthearted nature, it made you blush a little bit. “Let’s see, I grew up on a ranch in Texas, went to school for agribusiness, which is part of what landed me at Statesman in the first place. I don’t have a lot of free time, either, but I have a horse I take care of and ride when I do have some. Stabled on the same property as the distillery, don’t think my landlord would like me havin’ a horse in my apartment,” he explained with a chuckle. You laughed a bit, too. “That’s sort of the down and dirty, I don’t necessarily consider myself particularly interestin’.”

You shrugged a bit, smiling at him. “Well, I’d beg to differ. I mean, you own a horse, that’s definitely more than I can say,” you said, taking another sip of your coffee.

Jack chuckled at that. “To be entirely fair, that doesn’t make me interestin’, just means I have money,” he said, tilting his head a little bit. “You can have all the money in the world and be about as bland as a bowl of plain oatmeal.”

You raised your eyebrows. He’s self-aware. That made him somehow even more attractive to you. “Tell me about it. You know how many exhaustingly boring white rich men I’ve had to deal with for my job?” you asked rhetorically, rolling your eyes. “It's like they suck the soul right out of you. Gotta go home and drink a bottle of hot sauce before whatever they rubbed off on you sets in.”

Jack let out a genuine belly laugh that made your stomach flop a bit. Your grin widened at the fact you made him laugh. “Now that might be an interestin’ tactic to employ next time I’m in New York dealin’ with potential investors,” he commented, before he tucked in to one of the pastries himself.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “ _Investors._ I couldn’t begin to count the amount of problems I’ve investigated that were brought on by companies trying to protect theirs,” you said, then made a bit of a face. “No offense, I guess? I’m sure you’re not that kind of company.”

Jack’s lopsided grin spread on his face again. “No, you have nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart,” he assured you. You felt your cheeks heat up a little bit again at the term of endearment. “So, you said you’re not from too far away, where’d you grow up?”

“Oh, uh, few hours north, in Indiana,” you explained. “Went to school in the same town I grew up in, too. I was glad to get out, frankly.” You shrugged a little bit. “You travel some, I’m sure you understand how nice it is to not be stuck in one place for too long.”

He nodded slightly. “I do, believe me,” he said. “I lived on the same farm for a very long time, most excitin’ thing to happen to me in my formative years was goin’ off to college.”

You and Jack went back and forth like this for a long time. A couple hours, in fact, and you didn’t even notice that much time had passed. The conversation was easy, and fun, and Jack was entertaining and funny… but you got the distinct feeling that he was running his own little investigation on you. A few of his questions seemed to want to really make sure you went to school where you did, that you are actually a journalist, that you don’t have any ulterior motives. You didn’t let it show, but you were a little disappointed with that. Maybe he wasn’t as into you as you’d hoped, or thought. Maybe he was just trying to make sure you weren’t with some competitor trying to get your hands on trade secrets, and this was the last you’d hear from him outside of your investigation. Surely that wasn’t the case, though, right?

Jack’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fished it out of his pocket and glanced quickly at it. A text from Ginger. “Sorry, hon, gimme just a second,” he said to you, before taking it out all the way and reading the text to himself quickly. “ _Been listening in. Ran the bg check, all seems to match up. Still be careful, but have fun ;) you’re on your own now!”_ Jack chuckled a little bit, then looked back up at you, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry, just a work thing.”

You smiled softly. “Work on a Saturday morning? C’mon, now, Jack, that’s no fun,” you chastised him playfully.

He made a sound of dismissal. “It’s nothin’, don’t even need to respond to it,” he assured you. Another moment of comfortable silence passed between the two of you, in which you polished off the last bit of a danish, and he drank the last sip of his coffee. “Hey, maybe this is a bit too much too soon, but, would you be interested in goin’ to dinner with me tonight?” Jack asked suddenly.

You blinked. You were slightly surprised he’d invite you out again so soon, but you weren’t at all put off by it. It sort of dashed your doubts that he was just doing this to make sure you weren’t some kind of corporate spy. “Um, yeah, I--yes, I’d love to,” you stumbled out, laughing a little at your own stuttering. “Did you have somewhere in mind?”

He did have somewhere in mind, somewhere nice, but not so nice you’d feel bad when he insisted on covering the check; based on him insisting on buying coffee, you knew he would. You felt like you were floating on a cloud the rest of the day. Jack wanted to spend _more time_ with you _that day_. That’s… more than you could ask for. You also wanted to spend more time with him, despite parts of you warning you that you didn’t want to get burnt out on this man. You were a little rusty with dating, and sure, you knew sometimes spending so much time with someone all at once could lead to things crashing and burning, but… you felt confident they wouldn’t.

You met him at the restaurant at 8. You took your time beforehand to make yourself look good, but you made sure not to overdress. This wasn’t the nicest restaurant in town by a long shot, after all. But, it was nice enough that Jack let out a low whistle as you approached the, dare you say, romantically lit restaurant from the parking lot.

“Why, your date is very lucky, if you don’t mind my sayin’,” he said, his head tilting back just a touch as he looked you over.

You waved your hand in modest dismissal. “Oh, this is nothing,” you said, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. “But, I can say the same for you.” Jack was wearing his, you now assume signature, dark jeans, this time with a button up sans tie and a blazer, and he had those gold-rimmed glasses back on.

“Well thank you, little lady,” he said, “but I assure you you look a lot more than nothin’.”

“Thank you, Jack,” you finally relented, smiling softly at him.

“Let’s go get a table, shall we?” he suggested, motioning towards the entrance of the building and guiding you in. His hand found the small of your back, and you felt like your skin was on fire through the material of your top. You realized he hadn’t really touched you, nor you him, since you almost fell on your face a few days ago during your interview. You quite liked how it felt, if you were being honest.

You two sat at a table right by a window, making conversation about anything and everything. How the work week went, Jack’s travel plans for heading back to New York in a couple weeks, your own plans to make a small trip home for a family member’s birthday. You had a glass of wine, and, appropriately enough, Jack sipped on a glass of whiskey. You ordered, and while Jack insisted nothing on the menu was off limits, you tried to keep your choice at a reasonable price.

Though, it turned out that didn’t really matter.

Jack glanced out the window, then did a double take, and his face dropped. Time slowed down, and adrenaline started pumping through your system; you knew something was very wrong.

“Get down!” Jack’s voice hit your ears no sooner than he was grabbing your arm and forcing you to the ground.

A gunshot rang out, and glass shattered. You both hit the floor.

“ _Jack!_ ”


	3. Chapter 3

The restaurant was full of shouting and rushing around. Your ears were still ringing a little bit from the sound of the gunshot and the shattering glass. Jack pushed himself off the floor, and looked over his shoulder where the attacker… was formerly standing. No one but a few confused and scared onlookers remained. What was that? He was sure he knew who, but… why? Why him? Why now?

He snapped out of his confusion and scrambled over to you, careful of the glass on the floor. “Hey, sweetheart, you okay?” he asked softly, brushing some shards off of you before helping you up.

You were trembling, mostly from the surge of adrenaline that had just washed through you, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t panicking a little bit. “I--I think so,” you stuttered out, taking stock of your physical wellbeing first. You heard police sirens in the distance. You turned to look at the broken window, and frowned, then looked back at Jack. “What the fuck was that?” You wanted to sound at least not as terrified as you were, but your voice wavered. Sure, you’d been attacked before, but no one had ever tried to  _ shoot _ you. Or someone you were investigating, for that matter.

Jack shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, I can guess, but I don’t know for sure,” he said. He chuckled a bit, but it was humorless. “This isn’t the first time somethin’ like this has happened, to be entirely fair. Our rival company… well. They don’t play nice.”

Your brow furrowed. “Your rival company?” you questioned, your brain instinctively kicking into investigation mode. You could tell he was lying on a surface level; companies don’t do shit like that, not to board members of other companies, not out in the open like this, and not during a point in time where there doesn’t appear to be any conflict between the two. But, you could tell he wasn’t lying when he said something like this had happened before. That part worried you a little bit. He was handling this like it happened to him every other day, he didn’t seem shaken at all. A bit surprised, but not afraid. That didn’t seem to you like normal board member behavior.

Well, if you weren’t at least marginally suspicious of Statesman before, you were now.

You didn’t really voice this, concerned that by connecting any dots you might shut yourself out from any further investigation. You were quiet as Jack guided you outside, grabbing your bag for you in the process. A few police vehicles were pulled up outside, and Jack wasted no time going to speak with someone who appeared to be a detective, although you didn’t recognize her. You thought you knew all the detectives in town thanks to your job. She had brown skin and short, dark hair and wore rimmed glasses. She smiled at you as she realized you were waiting for the man she was speaking with.

You elected to not voice anything about that, either.

The two conversed for a few more minutes, and you got the idea that they knew each other. Maybe she was a special private contractor for Statesman? Did they experience enough crime directed at them to warrant that? Whatever it was, nothing about this was sitting with you right. Once the conversation ended, though, and Jack made his way back over to you with concern laced on his face, your investigative concerns quickly disappeared as you remembered you’d just been shot at. You were still shaking a bit, your realization becoming overwhelming.

“Hey, you sure you’re okay? You’re shakin’ like a leaf,” he said quietly, gently moving to take your hands in his to steady them. You gulped a bit at the touch, then looked up at him. He looked almost… guilty, now that he was closer, not just concerned.

“I… Jack, I don’t know, that was…” you started to confess. You took a deep breath to try to steady yourself. “I’ve only been attacked one time with this job, it was someone I’d been investigating, just disgruntled and wanted to take a few swings at me. I’ve never been… shot at.”

Jack sighed and nodded his head. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, they were definitely shootin’ at me,” he said, a small smile that was supposed to comfort you spreading on his face. He paused, rubbing his thumb over yours as he still held your hands steady. He cleared his throat. “This definitely ain’t how tonight was supposed to go. I apologize.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, this isn’t your fault. How were you supposed to know that someone was going to try--” the words ‘to kill you’ got stuck in your throat. You hadn’t known this man very long, but the very thought of that scared the hell out of you. “Going to do that,” you finished instead.

He looked at you almost pleadingly, like he was convinced he should’ve known or should’ve been better prepared. Little did you know, of course, he was  _ definitely _ convinced of this. Some intel fell short, someone somewhere slipped under their radar and this shouldn’t have happened. In his short conversation with Ginger, he understood that this was a surprise to everyone, that even she had no idea this was a possibility. No one suspicious had travelled into Louisville that they were aware of, no one with Prometheus or any of their known contractors. This threw a wrench in the works, for sure, and he was hoping to god once again that this was a coincidence and you being there wasn’t planned.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” he finally said, sounding a bit defeated. “If you’d like I can take you home. This has been a lot, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

That’s when the slightly embarrassing fear of being alone set in. The thought of being by yourself in your apartment sounded like hell, and you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. You started to stutter a response.

“I, uh, yeah, I mean, I guess, but um… I don’t…” you started, sliding your hands out from Jack’s to cross your arms in front of you like you were holding yourself together. “Being alone doesn’t… sound good. Right now.”

Jack smiled softly again. “You could come back to my place,” he offered. “I know I was the one who got shot at but it  _ is _ safe. No pressure, of course. Just so you don’t have to be alone.” He said this firmly, as if to ensure you knew that this wasn’t an invitation to try to get in your pants. He wanted to make you feel safe.

You nodded slightly. “If that’s okay with you,” you responded. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Not imposin’ at all,” Jack assured you. He offered you his hand again, and you took it. He led you to a nicely restored vintage Ford Bronco, and helped you in the passenger seat.

* * *

“Who’s this woman with him?”

“Not anyone important. Works for the Daily Observer.”

“We’re buying that paper. Might be something there.”

“From what we can tell she’s not a fan of us.”

A hum of consideration. A tablet being set down. “This was a date?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Keep an eye on her. We may have just found a bargaining chip.”


	4. Chapter 4

The drive back to Jack’s place started quiet. You didn’t mind, but it gave you time to think, which, honestly, you didn’t really want to do right now. You wanted to relax and forget that you were almost in mortal danger a few minutes ago. But, still, you couldn’t help but go through all the details as you could remember them.

It still didn’t make sense to you that a rival company would do something like that so publicly. You also felt like it didn’t take nearly enough time to deal with the police who came to investigate, and on top of that, you didn’t recognize the detective who showed up to the scene. And Jack just… handled it too well, he wasn’t nearly as shaken as you would’ve expected him to be, which led you right back to your main question that got you here in the first place. What was Statesman doing with all that money? Then another, more concerning question bubbled up to the surface. Was Jack more than just a board member? You could hardly find anything about him beyond some things he did as a child, so there’s a chance he was former military or something like that, and he’d seen action like this in the past, but then you might be able to find some kind of service record and that never came up. Plus, with a very…  _ patriotic _ company, for lack of a better term, you’d think they’d want one of their board members advertising the fact he was a veteran.

You took a deep breath and sighed, and Jack briefly looked over at you before returning his eyes to the road.

“You doin’ okay?” he asked, brows furrowed in concern.

You swallowed. “I’m… Jack, what  _ happened _ back there?” you asked, giving up on your roundabout questions and investigative tactics. You needed to know. “I just… get the feeling you know more than you’re letting on, and I’d like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

Jack nodded slowly, taking in your question. “Listen, I wish I had more answers. But it’s just like I said; it was a rival company makin’ a very bold move. I don’t know what they’re after, but I’m very interested in findin’ out.”

You looked at him. He just said  _ a _ rival company. Earlier he said  _ our _ rival company. It could be nothing, but it also could be an important detail. You took a mental note of that, then shook your head. “I want to believe you, but… companies don’t just attempt to murder their rivals’ board members out in the open like that!” you said insistently, getting a little more fired up than you intended. “It just doesn’t make sense to me. Something isn’t right here.”

“That we can agree on,” Jack said, reaching over and gently squeezing your leg just above your knee in reassurance. The touch made your skin feel like it was on fire, even through the material of your pants. “Maybe the whole truth isn’t there. I’m sure they’ll find more clues and things will start to make sense. That’s just the only thing I can think of right now. Like I said, it’s happened before.”

You took another deep breath. Something much bigger is definitely happening here, you just didn’t know what yet. But, it also wasn’t the time to get into it with Jack about it. Today had been… a lot. You were tired, and you needed to sleep and gather your thoughts away from the events of the evening.

After a while, you arrived at a fairly nice looking apartment building across town. Jack pulled into the parking under the building, and led you to the elevators and up to the top floor. Figures he’d have as close to a penthouse apartment as you could get in Louisville. The space was decorated pretty much exactly how you would expect it to be, given his style and mannerisms. Metal decor with beautiful patina, old pictures, a couple you recognized from your first searches of him for his background, but a lot you didn’t, likely of his family, and a few with coworkers. His furniture looked well-loved and comfortable, and a quilt layed folded neatly over the back of his couch. Still, though, it felt like… something was missing. This was staged nicely, but you got the distinct feeling he didn’t spend much time here. Of course, that made sense, considering from what you could tell he spent a lot of his time in New York.

“Make yourself at home,” Jack said, kicking off his shoes and taking off his suit jacket as he entered the apartment behind you. “Can I get you anythin’ to drink?”

You shook your head slightly. “No, I’m okay, thanks,” you said, and then you yawned. “Thank you again for letting me stay here. I know it’s ridiculous, but…”

“It’s not ridiculous at all,” Jack assured you. He took his hat off and set it carefully on a hook by the door. His hair looked a bit messy, and for a split moment you wanted to put your fingers in it and mess it up further. “Lemme show you the guest room, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “That was… a lot, this evening.”

Jack hummed an agreement and walked further back into the apartment, motioning for you to follow. He showed you back to a guest room that was decorated pretty much exactly the same as the rest of the house, with a large, neatly made bed in the middle of the back wall. The room had its own bathroom, too.

“If you need anything, you just holler, okay? I gotta take care of a few things yet, but I’ll be in my room just next door,” he said, smiling at you softly. You turned towards him slightly, and like he read your mind, he opened his arms a bit, which let you easily wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. He wrapped his own arms around you, his large, warm hands a comforting weight against your back. You could be convinced to stay here like this forever, honestly. He smelled like campfire smoke, line-dried laundry, and something unique to him that made you think of the word  _ home _ . Jack pressed a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there, and you thought you might explode from how good this moment was, despite the circumstances that led to it. You both stayed like that for a long moment, and he made no move to break the embrace until you did.

“Thank you, Jack,” you said again, although you weren’t sure what you were thanking him for. The evening? Letting you stay? Hugging you like that? Probably all of it, honestly.

“You’re welcome, darlin’,” he responded, and turned to give you some space to decompress. But he paused, and looked back at you. “If you want, I have some old t-shirts you can sleep in. I figure you don’t have a change of clothes with you.”

You made a small sound of surprise and realization. You couldn’t fight off the blush you felt heating up your cheeks, but you pushed through it and nodded a bit, anyway. “Um, yeah, if that’s alright.” Christ, you’ve only been on one dinner date with him and you’re already staying over at his place, wearing his clothes to bed. It’s not that you thought things were moving too fast, exactly, it was just… going too well. You weren’t expecting to fall into such an easy rhythm with him, with anyone for that matter, and for things to just… click. You didn’t believe in love at first sight, that was a load of shit, you had to work to get to know someone and then things would smooth out. You hardly knew him at all, and that fact solidified earlier with… just everything that happened, how well he handled being shot at, the fact that that wasn’t the first time something like that had happened to him. Yet, despite all that, you were falling into such an easy rhythm.

You were pulled out of your thoughts finally by Jack returning with an old shirt and what looked like a pair of sweatpants. He handed them over to you, and you smiled softly.

“Thanks again,” you said.

Jack smiled at you. “You gotta quit thankin’ me,” he said, though there wasn’t anything but affection in his voice. “It’s not a problem. Get some rest, alright?”

You nodded, and he walked over to his room. With one last glance back in your direction, he closed the door behind him. You followed suit, changing into what appeared to be a Statesman shirt from what was likely some sort of HR team building event, and the sweatpants that were a little bit too big on you, but you fixed by grabbing a hair tie from your bag and tying the waistband a little tighter. You pulled the shirt up to your nose and smelled it; it smelled like him, plus whatever laundry detergent he used. Was it too early to steal clothes from him? You shook the thought from your head, and climbed into the bed. You sort of wished you had an excuse to get him to share the bed with you, but you figured it was too early for that, too. Almost as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were asleep, realizing just how exhausting today had been.

\--------

The next morning, you were woken up by the unmistakable smell of freshly brewed coffee and bacon. The sun was filtering in through the curtains over the window in Jack’s guest room. For a moment, it was peaceful, quiet, right before you remembered where you were and why you were there.

You sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. It was still peaceful and quiet, but you were definitely still processing what had happened last night. You tried to will those thoughts from your head before you peeled yourself out of the incredibly comfortable bed you had slept in, and begrudgingly changed back into the clothes you had worn last night.

You padded out to the kitchen, a yawn escaping your lips as you did. You found Jack standing in front of the stove, humming to himself. He was juggling a few tasks; frying bacon, a pan of eggs, and flipping pancakes. You judged by the relaxed way he switched between each pan that he knew his way around the kitchen.

“It smells incredible in here,” you commented, your voice still a little rough from sleep.

“Good morning, sugar,” Jack said, smiling over his shoulder at you. He looked much more relaxed than he was last night, still in his pajamas; a t-shirt that was just tight enough that it stretched over his back when he leaned over the stove to do something, and lounge pants that looked incredibly comfortable and sat low on his hips. His hair was still a mess from sleep. It looked soft and, again, you found yourself wanting to touch it. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I slept great,” you confessed, sitting yourself on a bar stool at the kitchen island just in front of the stove. “That bed is incredibly comfortable.”

“Well, you’re welcome to sleep on it whenever you’d like,” Jack said, turning to face you with a soft smile. “Now, I know your coffee order, but I don’t have all that fancy stuff here, so how would you like your coffee?”

You gasped in feigned surprise. “You mean to tell me you don’t have an extremely expensive espresso machine and flavored syrups?” you asked sarcastically, laughing a little bit.

“Never did get a taste for that stuff,” Jack told you, shrugging a bit as he turned towards the coffee machine and grabbed a mug from nearby. You told him how you usually drink your coffee, and he happily mixed it up for you before setting the mug down in front of you. You took a sip; it was perfect, much better than the shitty coffee you got at the office usually.

“Thank you,” you said, taking another sip. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble, you know. I would’ve been fine getting something on my way home.”

Jack made a sound of dismissal. “Absolutely not. You’re my guest, it would be rude of me to send you off hungry,” he explained. “Besides, I wanted to go to all this trouble for ya.” He looked back at you from the stove again and winked. You smiled, and felt your cheeks warm up a little bit. “Now, I got pancakes, eggs, and bacon right now, but if you want anythin’ else I can make it real quick.”

“That is more than enough, but I appreciate it,” you responded, taking another sip of your coffee.

“Alright then, how do you like your eggs?” he asked, just before sliding a couple perfect sunny side up eggs off the pan and onto a plate. Before too long, he had assembled a few plates with eggs done to perfection just the way you like, perfectly crispy bacon, and a stack of perfectly done pancakes. He also set out butter and real maple syrup on the table, and instructed you to dig in while he grabbed a mason jar and a coffee filter from one of his cabinets. He placed the coffee filter on top of the mason jar, picked up the (very old looking, but well loved and well taken care of) cast iron skillet he was making the bacon in, and poured the bacon grease into the coffee filter, letting it drip through while it was still hot and, therefore, liquid.

“If you get all the bits out, it won’t go rancid as fast,” Jack explained, picking up on your curious glances as you ate another bite of pancake (which were incredible, and had to have been made from scratch). “You can use it in all sorts of stuff, but my favorite is usin’ it to make popcorn on the stovetop.”

“What?” you asked, pleasantly surprised. “That sounds amazing. You’ll have to make it for me sometime.”

“You just say the word, darlin’,” he said, setting the skillet back on the stove and sitting down next to you to begin eating his own food.

You sat in silence for a while, enjoying the food and the quiet morning, and each other’s company. But all the while, Jack was thinking. He was confident you weren’t with Prometheus at this point; you didn’t know about the attack beforehand; if you had, you wouldn’t have been as shaken as you were. But, he needed to know for sure. Despite the fact he knew he probably shouldn’t, he decided to do the thing that made the most sense; just ask.

“What do you know about Prometheus?” Jack asked suddenly.

You blinked at the question, which was seemingly entirely out of left field. You scrunched your nose a little bit before answering. “I know that I hate them,” you said, shrugging a little bit. “Usually I hate Prometheus just because… you know, they treat their lower level employees like crap, and their founder is a piece of shit. Right now I hate them because they’re… trying to buy the newspaper I work for.” You sighed, remembering the conversation you’d had with your editor in chief a couple days ago. “If they do succeed in buying the paper, I’ll probably lose my job.”

Jack looked at you with some concern, like he didn’t intend for the question to bring up yet another negative thing going on in your life. Truth be told, he didn’t, but he also was relieved, because your answer gave him the assurance he needed. “I’m sorry about that,” he said quietly, taking a sip of his coffee.

You were absolutely confused by this question. What prompted it? What did it have to do with anything? Though, you supposed it would explain why last night Jack had said something about  _ a  _ rival company as opposed to  _ their _ rival company. Suddenly, though, another thing that Jack said last night popped into your head.  _ Maybe the whole truth isn’t there. That’s just the only thing I can think of right now. _ Did Prometheus try to kill Jack last night?

You set down your fork and looked over at him, and your face gave away that the gears were turning in your head. “Jack, what the hell is going on?” you asked finally.

Jack sighed, and chewed his bottom lip for a moment. “I honestly don’t know,” he admitted, and you knew he was telling you the truth. “We have some of our best folks looking into it, I know that, and we’ll figure it out. I’m sure they’re involved somehow, but that’s all I got.”

You nodded slowly, taking in this information. Some things still didn’t make sense, definitely. You found it hard to believe another liquor company would pull something like that, but Prometheus? You’d believe it. A company as big as that has some dark dealings, no doubt about it. What it had to do with Statesman, with  _ Jack _ , you weren’t so sure about. But, you got the feeling he didn’t really know, either. With that in mind, you decided not to press forward on the subject. You wanted to move on from last night, and go back to seeing where this… thing between you two would take you. Still, though, you couldn’t help but wonder:  _ what were you getting yourself into? _


	5. Chapter 5

For the next two months, things were… calm. To your knowledge, at least, no one had tried to kill either you or Jack, and things were going well. There was still some tension leftover from your first dinner date, and the conversation the next morning, but it was mainly just nerves at this point. Concern it would happen again, worries something worse would happen. But, Jack had done a pretty good job of keeping you calm and grounded about it.

Jack had been back and forth a few times to NYC now, and the first time he was there for a week was… difficult. You texted and called as much as you could, but it was still hard knowing he was something like a 12 hour car ride away rather than just across town. But, you vividly remembered seeing him for the first time after he got back from that trip. He had called and let you know he was headed back to Louisville that morning, and asked if you’d like to meet him for dinner that night. Of course you agreed, and when you saw him standing outside the doors to the restaurant, you practically ran into his arms, hugging him close to you. He held you close to him, too, tighter than he had other than that night after he’d been shot at. You held each other for a long moment, as if if you let go too early, the other would disappear. You pulled away just enough to look up at him.

That was your first kiss with Jack. He closed the gap between you, cradling your cheek with one hand, his other still at the small of your back, holding you to him. He kissed you like his life depended on it, and by the time you split for breath, you were almost dizzy, your entire body buzzing with the need to kiss him again.

“I missed you, darlin’,” he said softly, still holding your cheek in his hand.

“I missed you, too,” you responded, before going in for another, just as passionate, kiss.

Of course, the entire two months weren't all fun and games.

The editor in chief of the Observer called a full team meeting. You knew that wasn’t good.

“You know, they gave me a whole ‘look on the bright side’ speech to give all of you,” Sophia said, standing at the front of the room where the meeting was taking place, waving the piece of paper that speech was likely written on. “I was supposed to tell you that this was a great partnership to look forward to, but you’re all smart people, or I wouldn’t have hired you. You all know it’s not. The purchase of the Louisville Daily Observer by Prometheus is going to be finalized on the first of next month, and they’ll be making personnel changes as they see fit.”

You were one of the personnel changes they made. You lost your job. The career you worked hard for and loved.

You called Jack from your car, now full of things from your office, at the end of the day, distraught. They let you go on the exact same day they announced the changes.

“Hey, hey, baby, calm down, I can’t understand a word you’re sayin’,” Jack said, as soothingly as he could despite his immense worry.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “Th-they let me g-go. Prometheus-s bought the n-newspaper.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Jack said, his brow furrowing further in concern. “I’m so sorry. Do you wanna come over? Just… watch some movies or somethin’? I’ll make you whatever you want for dinner, you just say the word.”

You accepted that invitation, driving directly from work over to his apartment. In the interim, however, Jack’s thoughts were going a mile a minute. He couldn’t shake the thought that this was done on purpose. Assuming that they’d taken note of who he was with when they tried to kill him a while ago, they knew that you were connected to him. Had they done this as a warning to him to let him know they were watching you? Whatever it was, it concerned him, but not quite as much as making you feel better when you got to his place that evening. Jack made your favorite comfort food for dinner, and set you up on the couch with a cozy blanket and whatever you wanted to watch on the TV.

“I don’t want you liftin’ a damn finger tonight, except to choose what you wanna watch, alright?” Jack told you calmly, peppering your face with kisses as soon as you got there. “You let me take care of ya.”

After you ate, Jack joined you on the couch, holding you to him tucked under his arm. He stayed uncharacteristically quiet as you cuddled like this. If you wanted to talk about what happened, you would, he knew that. But, if you wanted to just sit quietly and watch some movies and ignore the rest of the world for a while, he wasn’t going to stop you from doing that either. But, during a break between episodes of some show you didn’t have to pay too close attention to, Jack broke the silence.

“I just had a thought,” he started. “If you want, I can try to find you a position at Statesman. It might be… a little different than your job at the newspaper, but it’s better than nothin’.”

You turned and looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Just a little?” you asked, almost sarcastically, knowing you wouldn’t be doing any investigation if you worked for a liquor company.

Jack smiled back at you. “You don’t have to say yes, either, it’s just an option.”

You leaned up and kissed him softly. “If something comes up, I’d appreciate it. That means a lot, Jack.”

“It’s the least I can do, darlin’,” he said, kissing you again. He was tentatively excited about your agreement, though. He had a plan to get Champ to look through the work you’d done for the newspaper, prove that you were a good investigator, then maybe, just maybe get you in working with Ginger or staff in some other capacity. You were bright, and Statesman could use a mind like yours. He’d just have to convince the powers that be he was right.

You were still shaken up about losing your job, and decided it was best to take a few days to just… relax, and try not to think about anything else. Of course, you had to take stock of the fact you didn’t have any reason to investigate Statesman anymore, but you couldn’t deny you still had some questions you’d love to get answered. Maybe someday Jack would answer them for you. He was a good man, you knew that much, and if Statesman was doing something truly malicious with that money, he probably didn’t know. Someone like Jack would step in and try to stop anything illegal or immoral, you were sure of it. He made it sound like such, too, with offhand comments about world politics if the news was on, talking about how there isn’t enough coverage of some horrible atrocity some political leader you’d never heard of was committing, or similar issues a little closer to home. You’d frequently get into conversations about how Prometheus and its ilk would be the downfall of society as you knew it, what with their terrible working conditions for their employees and its owner’s own moral failings.

On one of the days you were using to relax before you started job hunting, you went out to go grab groceries. Just a short trip, and one with a low budget; you weren’t struggling yet, thankfully, but you wanted to ensure you wouldn’t get to that point (or worse, be forced to ask Jack for help) for a while. You knew Jack would have no issue helping you, but your relationship was still so new; if you had to ask for help you’d feel like you were taking advantage of him somehow. So, you carefully budgeted out this trip and strictly stuck to your list.

After your trip, you carried your canvas grocery bags up to your apartment. You were torn from your thoughts about what you were going to make for dinner tonight when you saw that your front door was hanging open.

Your heart began to race. You hadn’t left your door unlocked. You remember locking it and putting your keys in your purse. You carefully, slowly approached the door, seeing it had been opened somehow without being kicked in. Quietly, you assume, so whoever it was didn’t alert your neighbors. You stood outside the open door and held your breath, straining your ears to hear if anyone was still inside. Met with silence, you entered, setting your grocery bags on the kitchen counter. You grabbed a knife from the knife block next to your sink, and made your way through your apartment to make sure there truly wasn’t anyone still in there. Peaking in your bedroom, the bathroom, in the closet, under your bed… you were satisfied no one was there anymore. Your hands started shaking as the adrenaline started to wear off. You looked around again, this time checking for anything missing. But everything was exactly where it had been when you left to go shopping. You swallowed thickly.

Whoever had broken in was likely there to take  _ you. _ You’d just been fired by Prometheus a few days ago. Jack asked about Prometheus the morning after he’d been shot at. Jack. Fuck, what had you gotten yourself into?

Your fear and anxiety was being replaced with anger, which was aimed at Jack for dragging you into this. You knew, logically, that he hadn’t dragged you into anything. It was chance, he couldn’t have known, it wasn’t his fault. But you needed someone to blame, and he was the only one you could think of. Even through this anger, though, you knew you needed to call him. You grabbed your phone and did just that, still shaking, staring at your still-open front door.

“Hey, baby, what’s goin’ on?” Jack asked pleasantly.

“Someone broke into my apartment,” you said, your voice startlingly calm for how high strung you were right now.

“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was immediately completely serious, and you could hear rustling in the background.

“I’m fine, I was grocery shopping, no one was here when I got back,” you explained.

“Did you call the cops?” Jack asked.

“No,” you answered.

“Good. Don’t. I’m coming right now,” he said, and you heard the faint sound of keys jingling.

“Why?” you asked, though the face of that detective you didn’t recognize flashed in your mind.

“Please, sweetheart, just trust me, okay? I’ll be there in a couple minutes,” he said, then hung up.

You exhaled shakily, going to put the knife you’d grabbed as an impromptu weapon back in its spot. You started to put away groceries, trying to give yourself some sort of normalcy in this situation while you waited for Jack.

Jack was thankfully working from his apartment that day, not out at the distillery. He could make it across town in no time at all, though he still found himself driving a bit recklessly as he rushed to your apartment. He bypassed the elevator, taking the stairs two at a time to your floor, then practically sprinted down the hall to your apartment. The door was still hanging open, and he knocked quietly as he walked in.

You were standing in your kitchen, staring off into the distance, and his knocking startled you. You turned and looked at him, clearly shaken.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, looking away. Normally you’d have jumped into his arms by now, but you were still angry. “They didn’t take anything. I think they were here to take me.”

Jack sighed, turning around to survey your apartment as if to confirm they hadn’t taken anything. The only evidence anyone had even broken in was the broken lock on the door. “Sugar, I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“I’m not your fucking… Lois Lane, okay?” you snapped. You didn’t want to hear an apology or an excuse. You wanted him to know you didn’t sign up for this. Jack flinched back a bit at your words, and seemed almost confused. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but I’m not interested in being some kind of damsel in distress in whatever little game of hero you’ve got going on with Prometheus.”

Jack shook his head. “Baby, I know that’s not what you are,” he said, approaching you slowly and putting his hands on your shoulders gently. “I also still don’t know what’s goin’ on, but I sure as hell didn’t wanna get you caught in the crossfire. I don’t want you to be in danger. That bein’ said, it ain’t safe here for you anymore.”

You scoffed. “Of course you don’t, but I’m in danger because of you, right?”

Jack pressed his lips into a line and looked away from your face, then squeezed your shoulders a little tighter. “I wish I could tell you more,” he said quietly, almost pained. “I wish I could tell you differently. But I swear to you, I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure you don’t get hurt, okay? Startin’ by takin’ you back to my place and gettin’ my people on figurin’ out what happened here.” He looked back up in your eyes. “I’m sorry for gettin’ you wrapped up in this, but we’re in it together now. I’m gonna get you out of it, and that’s a promise.”

He looked almost afraid now that he was making eye contact again, and you felt your anger melt away. He really meant that, and of course he wasn’t intentionally putting you in any danger. You felt tears well up in your eyes, and you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I just…”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Jack assured you. He was holding you to him with one hand on the back of your neck, the other hand across your back. He was gently swaying back and forth, as if to soothe you. “It’s scary. You needed someone to blame. And I certainly don’t blame you for choosin’ me.”

You nodded a bit, but made no move to separate yourself from him, letting your tears fall onto the material of his shirt. Jack waited until you did move to let go, but only fully let you out of his arms after he’d kissed you gently.

“Go pack a bag. You might wanna bring more than you normally would, okay? We gotta figure out somethin’ since it’s not safe for you here,” Jack explained. “I’m gonna make a call, and then I’ll take you back to my place, alright?”

“Okay,” you agreed, before walking back to your room to throw some things into your duffel bag. You packed clothes for about a week just to be safe, everything you’d need from your bathroom, chargers, your laptop… As you were going over everything you’d need in your head, you realized this was the first time you’d be staying over at Jack’s place since the last time something out of the ordinary had happened. You hoped that this wasn’t going to become a pattern, and that you’d be staying over there more frequently without that context, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

While you were packing your bag, Jack called Ginger and explained the situation. She and a few investigators were coming over from HQ and would be there as soon as they could.

“She was definitely fired on purpose,” Jack speculated as he was giving Ginger as many details as he could.

“It makes sense. It means they know who she is,” Ginger responded. “Probably a warning.”

“That’s what worries me,” he said. “I don’t want her to be a piece in this game of chess.”

“She already is, Jack,” Ginger told him. “You need to use it to your advantage. You were just telling me the other day you wanted to propose her joining us to Champ.”

“I know, I know, but this isn’t exactly what I envisioned,” Jack argued. “Look, I gotta go, I’m takin’ her back to my place for now, so we won’t be here when you get here. Let me know if you find anythin’.”

“You got it. Talk to you later,” Ginger said, and Jack hung up, putting his phone in his pocket.

You emerged from your room with your duffel bag in hand, which Jack took from you. “Thanks for letting me stay with you again,” you said, grabbing your purse and taking another long look around your apartment, like you weren’t going to see it again.

Jack smiled softly. “You know you’re welcome anytime,” he said. “I wish somethin’ bad didn’t have to happen for you to stay over.”

You looked back at him, almost surprised by this admission despite having been dating for a couple months now. “Me, too,” you said, returning his smile.

“I got some folks comin’ this way to check things out. They’ll be here anytime. You ready?” Jack asked, motioning towards the door.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you responded, and you two left your apartment. You closed the door behind you, thankful it latched and just the lock was broken, which you weren’t too worried about considering you trusted your neighbors and Jack had… someone coming to figure out what happened.

The drive across town to Jack’s place was once again quiet, this time because you were processing what had just happened. You were thankful you were safe, alive, still in one piece. You were thankful Jack was here for you. Most of all, you were thankful he cared about your wellbeing in this situation and was actively working to figure things out. But, figuring things out was your specialty… so you spoke up.

“I wish I could help,” you said, looking over at Jack from the passenger seat of his Bronco. “I am an investigative journalist, after all. Investigation is my thing.”

Jack gave you a surprised look, then nodded. “You probably can,” he said. “Listen, baby, there’s a lot goin’ on with this, and I wanna tell you everything about it, but I can’t yet. If you give me a couple days, though, I’ll let you in on everything.”

You nodded a bit, your mind racing with possibilities of what he could be talking about. “Does… this have anything to do with the ridiculous amounts of money your company is spending?” you asked, venturing a guess.

Jack smiled, and chuckled softly. “It does. That I’ll tell you, since you’ve been after that since we met,” he answered. “The details, just… be patient, okay?”

It was your turn to be surprised. You hadn’t expected to get a direct answer to that question… ever, at this point, let alone so bluntly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I can do that.”

* * *

Jack made you dinner yet again, something you could seriously get used to. He was incredible in the kitchen, and even though you weren’t a terrible cook, the thought of helping him with some of the things he seemed to do with such ease was a little intimidating. You had no idea stirring could take so much concentration until you watched him make a dark brown roux, his eyes never drifting from the searing hot dutch oven he was using. He usually had you do prep work if you offered to help, having you cut up vegetables or measure out ingredients (but never spices, “you measure out spices with your soul. Except cayenne pepper, be careful with that.”) You were starting to get a little spoiled by his equipment; his chef’s knife was razor sharp and made everything so much easier. Tonight, he threw together some pasta and sauce, nothing too fancy, but watching him glide around his kitchen was still incredibly soothing, and a welcome distraction from today’s earlier events.

After dinner, you were both relaxing on the couch, once again watching some show you didn’t have to pay too close attention to, but that choice in entertainment may have been a mistake. You really needed to be distracted, because if you weren’t, your brain was going to do its own thing, and right now, that thing was worry. What if you had been home? What if you’d been taken? Would you have been killed? Why did they want you, anyway? What did Jack get into that’s making them go after him specifically? Why is he so sure it’s Prometheus? Why is Prometheus trying to kill the board member of a liquor company?

Your thoughts quickly got overwhelming, but you tried to keep your breathing steady and attempted to subtly wipe away any tears you were shedding so as not to get Jack’s attention and, therefore, further concern. That did not work.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jack asked softly, turning you to face him from where you were tucked into his side.

You shook your head. “I just… got in my own head,” you said, sniffling. “Just a little overwhelmed.”

“It’s alright. You know you’re safe here, right?” He brushed some hair out of your face and cupped your cheek gently, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “I know it was scary, seein’ your place got broken into, but you’re safe with me.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, leaning into his touch to your cheek. You looked up at him, and he had that caring, soft smile on his face that just assured you you were gonna be okay, that this was all gonna be fine. It was almost infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile back as you leaned forward and up, reciprocating his touch by gently cupping his face. You kissed him, softly at first, but you lingered, and it got more intense. You let your tongue slip into his mouth, humming as you tasted him. Eventually you had to pull away for breath, and he nipped at your bottom lip as you did.

You looked in Jack’s eyes again and something shifted. It was still sweet, and comforting, but something definitely changed. Jack stood, bringing you with him, and led you back to his room, where he gently laid you down on his bed. You smiled up at him as he climbed over you, then wrapped your arms around his neck as he leaned down to kiss you. It was deep, and passionate, but still gentle and tender. He pulled away after a moment, and looked at you.

“How about I take your mind off things for a while?” he offered, and you couldn’t help but grin and giggle quietly at his concern for your comfort even when you were pretty sure you’d given him very clear signals.

“That sounds good,” you responded, pulling him back down into a kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth this time, just for a moment though, before his hands found the hem of your shirt and pulled it up. You let your arms fall from around his neck to assist in this maneuver, and in the meantime helped him take his shirt off as well. Before long, all your clothes were tossed haphazardly on the floor, and Jack was leaned back just a bit, looking you over.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbled, before going back in for another kiss. You smiled into it as you wrapped your arms back around him, one of your hands finding the hair at the nape of his neck, the other tracing over his back and shoulder blade. Jack gently dragged one hand up your side, to your breast, where his calloused hand palmed it gently. You gasped into his lips as his thumb brushed over your nipple, which immediately hardened under the touch. His hand explored your body further, his lips never leaving yours. It glided down your side again, to your thigh, his fingers mapping out the soft skin there before he gently grabbed it, and guided you to hook your leg up around his waist. He then dragged his fingertips up your inner thigh, towards where you wanted him most. Your hips shifted, trying to close the gap, and Jack pulled away to smile.

“Don’t you worry, baby, I’m gonna take care of ya,” he assured you quietly. This time he didn’t lean back down to kiss you, but kept watching your face as he lightly, almost teasingly so, rubbed his thumb up your folds, ghosting over your clit. You gasped again, looking right back at him as you moved your hips again to try to get more friction. He gave in easily, and circled your bundle of nerves with his thumb a little more firmly, but still definitely teasing you.

“Jack,” you breathed, letting your eyes flutter shut to enjoy the sensations. Jack’s cock twitched hearing you say his name like that, something he could admit he’d imagined pretty frequently since he started seeing you. His eyes were still glued to your face, watching your reactions to his touch. His thumb stayed over your clit, starting to rub a little firmer as he adjusted his hand to slip two fingers into you. You moaned quietly at the stretch he provided, noting how much thicker his fingers were than yours, and he hummed contentedly feeling how wet you were for him already.

Jack worked his fingers slowly, in no hurry to get you to anywhere. He wanted to savor this moment, no matter what had gotten you both there in the first place. You were absolutely beautiful like this, your brow furrowed slightly as you concentrated on how his fingers felt in and against you, mouth open just a bit. He loved how your hands felt on his back and in his hair, gentle now, but he admittedly couldn’t wait until you dug your nails in or pulled.

Your breathing was getting faster as Jack worked you up to an orgasm like he had done this a million times before, which was incredibly impressive, but short of the point of no return, you gently grabbed Jack’s wrist. He stopped, and you opened your eyes to see him looking at you in slight confusion, if not worry he’d done something wrong.

“Don’t wanna cum yet,” you mumbled, releasing his wrist and putting your arm back around his neck. “Want you inside me. Please.”

Jack grinned and kissed you again as he gently slid his fingers back out of you. You damn near whimpered at the loss, and he nipped your bottom lip. “Can’t say no to a request like that,” he finally responded. He shifted slightly on top of you, and you absolutely reveled in the groan that left Jack’s lips as he rubbed the tip of his cock through your now soaked slit. You made your own small noise in return as it rubbed up against your clit.

You grabbed the hair at the back of his head gently and pulled him in for a deep kiss as he lined up with your entrance. You moaned into his mouth as he pushed in, and he moaned back into yours. You rolled your hips up to meet his, another gasp leaving you as his cock rubbed up against something delightful along your walls.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jack groaned, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes shut tight as he took in the feeling of how hot and wet and tight you were around him. His hand settled low on your tummy, his thumb pressing onto your clit but not yet rubbing, which you were thankful for since he’d gotten you pretty worked up just a few minutes ago. He gave one shallow, experimental thrust, and you gasped again. You wrapped your other leg up around his waist, then lightly tugged on his hair.

You said his name again, a plea in your voice, and Jack got the message immediately. He started slow, his movements deep and deliberate. He was still keeping close attention to your reactions, keeping track of what you seemed to particularly like. He gradually picked up the pace, once again taking his time, still in no hurry to get either of you off. It was still gentle, even as his hips moved quicker. Eventually he leaned in again, kissing you briefly before moving to your neck, where he quickly found a spot that made you moan out as the sensation was added to the rest of what you were feeling. He nipped at it, and took his time sucking a mark there.

With the feeling of his mouth on your neck, his thumb on your clit, and his cock filling you up perfectly, you were not set up to last much longer. But, based on the fact he was breathing a bit faster and grunts and moans were leaving his throat more frequently, Jack probably wasn’t, either.

“Jack, fuck, I’m--” you cut yourself off with a hum, trying to hold on just a little longer, make this feeling go on just a little bit more.

Jack lifted his head from your neck, nudged his nose against yours, and then kissed you before pulling away just enough to look at you. “Let go, darlin’, I got you. Cum for me.”

That’s all it took, listening to the raspy baritone of his voice encouraging you to go over the edge. You did, your back arching off the bed, your mouth falling open with a loud moan, your eyes screwing shut as the honeyed, hot feeling washed over you. Jack worked you through it expertly, drawing it out and bringing you back down to earth gently, gritting his teeth as he held off until he’d taken care of you completely. Once he had, he pulled out of you and wrapped his hand that was between the two of you around himself, then pumped his cock to his conclusion, spilling out all over your tummy which was… quite a sight to look at.

You tugged his hair gently again to bring his attention back to you, and pulled him back towards you to kiss him. It was much more chaste than the kisses you’d shared during the act, but there was still a little heat left in it.

“That was incredible,” you finally said, upon having to pull away from Jack for air. “You’re incredible.”

Jack smiled at you, but shook his head. “No, I’m pretty sure you’re the incredible one,” he argued playfully, kissing you quickly. He begrudgingly got up then, quickly walking to his bathroom to grab a washcloth, which he wet with some warm water. You propped yourself up on your elbows as he walked away from you, shamelessly looking at his ass.

You grinned as he returned, like you knew something he didn’t, and he gave you an amused but puzzled look. “What?”

“You have a nice butt,” you told him, as matter-of-factly as you could despite your own amusement.

Jack chuckled. “Why thank you,” he said, climbing back on the bed and wiping his mess off of your skin before tossing the cloth on the floor near your clothes. “You also have a nice butt.”

Your smile stayed on your face as you pulled him in for another kiss. You both situated yourselves under the covers, deciding you didn’t want to get up long enough to shower until later. Maybe tomorrow. Jack was propped up on his pillow looking at you, and you were looking back up at him. He looked like he was thinking, though, his stare almost going through you.

Jack was thinking, hard, about what the best move would be to keep you safe at this point. Without a job, relocation would be easy enough. He had thought about trying to find you your own apartment, but every time he considered this, his mind went back to how easily you two fell into a rhythm when you went over to each other’s places, even if you didn’t stay the night. How you helped him in the kitchen with dinner, how you so easily shared that space and worked together so well. How you curled into him as you watched TV or a movie after dinner, so easily getting comfortable. How his feelings were growing for you so fast, how when you left at the end of the night he always felt a pang of disappointment, how the thought of not being with you made his chest ache.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked, reaching up and placing your hand on his cheek, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone.

“I want you to move in with me,” he said, looking at you seriously. “In New York.”

Your eyes widened, and you sat up slightly. This wasn’t a bad surprise, not in the slightest, but it was a  _ big _ surprise. “What?”

“You’d be safer there,” Jack started to explain, though he was concerned now he’d tried to push things too far too soon, even though he didn’t see any signs of rejection on your face or hear any in your voice. “And the only reason I’m comin’ to Kentucky so frequently is you at this point, sweetheart. I’m supposed to be based in New York all the time, only comin’ here every couple months or so. Plus, it’d be a little easier for you to be there if I get you the position at Statesman I had in mind.”

You blink at him for a few seconds, trying to wrap your head around what he was offering. “Jack, I mean… I’d love to, but I don’t… I mean, my lease, then getting everything over there--”

“I’ve thought through all of that, darlin’,” he said, smiling softly. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you argued, furrowing your brow a bit. That’s a lot of money.

“You aren’t,” he responded, leaning over and kissing you. “I’m offerin’. I’ll worry about that, you worry about packin’. Waddya say?”

You got the distinct feeling that he wasn’t going to let you refuse on the grounds of cost, and of course you wanted to move in with him. He made you feel safe, and comfortable, and damn if you didn’t want more nights like this one. You let a smile spread across your face, and you kissed him again.

“Alright,” you agreed. “Y’know, I’ve never been to New York.”

“Well, you are in for a treat, sugar.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Well, Whiskey, I looked through all of the articles you submitted,” Champ started as Jack walked into the lead agent’s office. “Your girl has a talent.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jack responded, a smile of pride spreading on his face. He quickly sat himself in one of the chairs across from his supervisor. “I really think she’d be a valuable asset to the team.”

“I agree, but,” Champ said, raising an eyebrow and giving Jack a pointed look, “I do recall givin’ you specific instructions to not go fallin’ for this girl.”

Jack chuckled a little bit. “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Jack said. He knew that was a lie. He  _ was _ falling for you, which scared him a little bit. But it was far too early in your relationship to tell you that. He’d just have to… see where it goes. He definitely didn’t want to scare you off, not after you’d agreed to move in with him. “I just want to protect her. After the break in, and myself gettin’ shot at, I think this is the best option to do that.”

Champ hummed in such a way that communicated he didn’t believe Jack’s deflection in the slightest. “Well, regardless, I’d like to meet her. I’ll grant your request to keep her in the office, at least for now. I’d like to put her through some field training anyway.”

Jack furrowed his brow in surprise. “Sir?”

“You said it yourself, Whiskey, you want to protect her. She’s gonna be much better protected if she can also protect herself,” Champ explained.

Jack sighed, then nodded. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“I usually am,” Champ retorted, sitting back in his chair with a knowing smile.

“So, am I clear to explain the situation to her?” Jack asked.

“You are. I’d maybe… stick to tellin’ her the basics at first, ‘til she gets here, anyway,” Champ answered.

“Alright. When do you want me to bring her in?”

\--------

_ Dinner in tonight, just got the ok from Statesman, we have a lot to talk about _

You received that text from Jack at about three in the afternoon, and it’s been on your mind since. Not in a bad way, really, but it was… off. You were glad he’d gotten you a position at Statesman, and you assumed he wanted to talk about the job since he’d been kind of cagey about it since he brought it up, but you had this odd feeling you couldn’t shake that there was more under the surface. Maybe it was because he admitted to you that he’d tell you about where all the money Statesman was spending was going. Maybe this was part of that, and you were just uncomfortable that you couldn’t connect the dots on your own. You never did really have enough clues to put together what they could possibly be spending money on, and no one, not even Jack, was particularly forthcoming about it.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait too terribly long for Jack to come back to his apartment to explain. He came in the door a little bit after five, while you were busying yourself with little chores; folding some laundry, cleaning some things in the kitchen, that kind of thing. You looked over to him from where you were currently in the kitchen and smiled a bit.

“Hey,” you said softly.

Jack looked excited, which put you at ease immediately. “Hey,” he said, coming into the kitchen without even kicking off his shoes or anything. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss, which you reciprocated.

“A lot to talk about, hm?” you asked, pulling away just enough to look at him.

“Yep,” he agreed. “Wanna talk about it now or after dinner?”

“If I’m being honest, it’s been making me nervous since you texted me, so… now?” you said hopefully.

Jack nodded a little bit. “Then now it is,” he said. “So, first things first, to answer your question about what all that money’s gettin’ spent on.” As he spoke, he motioned for you to sit at one of the bar stools at the counter of his kitchen island. He stood on the other side of the fixture, and leaned over it to look at you. “Truth is, that’s only a small amount of the money we end up spendin’. Statesman is a front for an independent intelligence agency.”

You blinked. “Independent intelligence agency?” you questioned. That is  _ not _ what you expected. Jack stayed quiet to give you a moment to process this information. “What does that… entail? Why a liquor company?”

“The liquor company thing is just coincidence,” he explained. “Our founder happened to be in that business first. As for what it entails, we gather intelligence and we act on it, without the restrictions put on state-sponsored intelligence. CIA might not be able to stop some conflict in, say… I dunno, how about Canada. We’re too buddy-buddy with our neighbors to the north, the CIA goin’ in and gettin’ their hands dirty would look very bad and cause a lot of tension. But, Statesman can go in quietly and take care of it, and since we’re not state sponsored, as long as we stay outta sight and don’t get caught… we can do whatever we want.”

You listened intently. “But you still have the restriction of keeping this stuff secret,” you inferred. “I’ve not really heard of any mystery heroes saving the day.”

“Well, exactly, but most of the bad guys we take down don’t hit the news cycle,” Jack explained. “You’ll understand more once I give you the tour. And, uh, you start doing your new job.”

Oh, right. You were working for this organization, now. “Wait, what am I going to be doing, then?”

“What you do best, sugar,” he responded. “Investigate. You’ll be in the headquarters in New York, so you won’t be in any danger, but you’ll be givin’ information to our agents. Anything from dossiers to floor plans to schematics.”

You nodded a bit. Their agents.  _ You _ won’t be in danger. But Jack got shot at. “So… what do you do? I mean, if the entire liquor company is a front, I… take it you’re not just a board member.”

Jack straightened up a little bit and smiled. “I’m a senior field agent. I’m the one takin’ down the bad guys. ‘Course, I haven’t been doin’ much of that lately, since I’ve been wantin’ to be here with you.” He then took a deep breath. “But, that brings me to the next order of business.” He sounded a little less sure of himself, now.

“What is it?” you asked, furrowing your brow in concern.

“The name  _ Smith _ is a bit of a cover,” Jack continued. “Maybe not the best cover in the world, but it’s what we tell the general public for a couple reasons. One, so I don’t get anyone on my tail, and two, because… well, now, darlin’ promise me you won’t laugh.”

You gave him a slightly amused look, despite the fact that you were a little surprised Jack had been using a fake name, even if it was just his last name. Given context, though, you weren’t too terribly upset about it. “I won’t make a promise I can’t keep,” you said.

Jack laughed a little at that. “Alright, fair enough. Well, two, no one’s gonna believe  _ Jack Daniels _ is on the board for Statesman.”

Your eyes widened, and you did try your hardest not to laugh. You did try. But it didn’t work. You let out a snort as you tried to keep it in, but it escaped. “Oh, my god, no way,” you said. “There’s no way your name is Jack Daniels.”

“It’s what my momma named me on day one,” Jack said, shrugging a bit. “I’ve heard all the jokes, though, so don’t bother.” He seemed much more comfortable again, now that you’d taken all this news so well.

You chuckled a bit and sighed, still processing the information you’d been given. “Wow. Independent intelligence. I never would’ve guessed,” you confessed.

“I’m fairly certain you woulda gotten there eventually,” Jack responded, winking at you. “You’re better at your job than you give yourself credit for.”

“I hope you’re right,” you said. You then furrowed your brow as another question began to form in your mind. His  _ actual _ occupation lines up far better with the fact he got shot at. But that still leaves… “So, what does this have to do with Prometheus?”

Jack sighed, and made a face. “That I unfortunately don’t know the answer to,” he said. “At least, not exactly. And I’ve been given instructions to just give you the basics before we go in, and that’s… a little bit beyond the basics.”

“I understand,” you said. “Really, this is… already a lot of information to process. I’m honestly not sure if I believe it.”

“Maybe it’ll settle in a little better once I give you your next Statesman grand tour,” he suggested. “Seein’ it all is a whole different ball game.”

“So where’s that grand tour taking place?” you asked. You thought you knew the answer already, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. After all, he had just said the liquor company was a front.

“The distillery,” Jack answered.

“What? Where?” you asked, kind of in disbelief your gut instinct was correct.

“Mostly underground,” he said. “It’s a big facility. We got a lot goin’ on in there.”

You nodded, then took a deep breath. “Alright. Well… when do we go in?”

\--------

Pulling up to the distillery was pretty much exactly the same as it had been the last time you did, which seemed like so much longer than just a few months ago. The difference was this time you were with Jack, and you knew things were about to get even stranger than they already were. You wanted to believe him on words alone, but you still couldn’t quite get your mind wrapped around “independent intelligence agency.” What were they up to? Where did they operate, usually? Were they alone? Were there other agencies like them?

You sighed, trying to shift out of investigation and speculation mode and into a state focused on absorbing information. You could make connections and draw conclusions later. But, that line of thought led you to why you were nervous. Sure, you thought of yourself as a decent investigator, but you handled local corruption, not… life or death situations for people in other countries, or your coworkers. Were you cut out for this?

Jack placed his hand on your thigh and squeezed as he put his truck in park. “I know you’re worryin’ over there,” he said. “You’ll do just fine. But, today’s just the tour, get to meet a few people.”

You took another deep breath and nodded. “I know. I just hope when the time comes I’ll live up to expectations,” you said, putting your hand over his.

“You will,” he assured you. “I know it.”

You smiled softly. “You know it, huh?”

“Listen, my boss wouldn’t have given you a second look if you weren’t cut out for this,” he said. “You’ll be just fine. Take this one step at a time, alright? And step one is a tour of headquarters.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright.”

You both got out of the car and headed into the main building, which was joined to a structure that looked like a Statesman bottle. You always thought that was a little tacky, honestly, but this was supposed to be a bit of a tourist trap after all. To your surprise, though, Jack took you to an elevator and up, seemingly inside this structure.

“Alright, first things first, the boss wants to meet you,” he said, a touch of pride in his tone. “He was real impressed with your work for the newspaper, so you’ve already made a good impression. I wouldn’t worry about him.”

“Is there anyone I  _ should _ worry about?” you asked, almost teasingly.

Jack seemed to consider this for a moment. “I mean… Maybe Tequila, but only because he might like you  _ too _ much.”

You made a bit of a face at the moniker he just used to refer to someone, but before you could respond, the elevator arrived at its destination and Jack took your hand. He led you into a room full of old paintings, bottles, and a massive conference table with the Statesman logo carved in the middle. A huge window looked out onto the rest of the distillery. You made a sound to convey that you were impressed with the view.

“That’s an awfully nice view, but it’s nothin’ compared to some of the views I’m sure you’ll see with us,” a new voice said. Your gaze went from the window to the source of the voice. An older man was standing by a small table with a pretty diverse selection of liquors, not all Statesman, on it. He smiled at you, walking over and extending a hand. “I’m Champagne. But everyone who knows what’s what calls me Champ.”

You shook his hand, then gave him your name. “So… Jack mentioned a ‘Tequila,’ you’re Champagne… I take it he’s Whiskey, then, given his name?” you wondered aloud, though you were partly joking.

Champ looked behind you at Jack, and looked… impressed? “Bingo,” he said, and Jack chuckled.

You whipped around and looked at Jack. “You’re kidding, right? I was kidding,” you said, only partly containing your own laugh.

“Agent Whiskey, at your service,” Jack responded, tipping his hat slightly at you.

Champ chuckled. “Well, seems like you’re just as good at your job as Jack’s been settin’ you up to be,” he said. “I’ve looked through your work. You have a gift, young lady. We’re lucky to have ya.”

“Well, thank you,” you responded, smiling sheepishly. “I hope I can live up to expectations.”

“I have great faith that you will,” Champ said. “Now, I think Ginger’ll wanna see you, then I’m sure Jack’s got a tour planned out for you two.”

Jack led you back out of the conference room and towards the elevator you came up in, his hand gently resting on your lower back. You looked over at him and smiled a bit.

“I think that went well,” you said. “I was expecting him to be a lot more intimidating.”

Jack laughed a little. “He has his moments. Just wait ‘til you or your team fuck up. He can be scary when he needs to be,” he explained. “He worked hard to get to the position he’s in. He’s been in the field for… well, a long time. There’s a reason he’s in charge.”

“I imagine so,” you responded.

You and Jack walked back out of the elevator once it arrived, and he took you outside. You started walking down one of the trails, several yards behind a tour group.

“Remember how I said those warehouses were climate controlled and we couldn’t go in?” Jack asked, guiding you towards the door of said warehouse now that the tour group in front of you was far enough away. He pulled up his sleeve slightly to look at his watch.

“Yeah,” you said, questioningly.

“Easiest way to keep average folks from tryin’ to get in ‘em and findin’...” he started, bringing his watch close to a panel that lifted to show a sensor of some sort, “this.” They seemed to connect, and the door to the warehouse opened.

Jack led you in and the door slid shut behind you two. There were some very old, very large barrels of whiskey on the racks and lining the walls of the building. He walked you towards what you imagine was the largest barrel in the whole warehouse… but, of course, it turned out to not be a barrel at all, but rather another elevator.

“You all have really gone all out with this whole… disguise thing, huh?” you asked, elbowing Jack playfully.

“That, and we do have an aesthetic to uphold,” he said, joking along with you.

That being said, the hallway you walked out into from the elevator didn’t match the set aesthetic at all. Clean lines, no rustic country decor. A massive window lined the hallway to your right, looking out at what appeared to be a hangar, with several  _ fighter jets  _ alongside some other equipment that you couldn’t quite identify.

“What the fuck…” you whispered, peering out the window at the massive underground building.

Jack chuckled. “See that one, right there? With ‘Silver Pony’ on the side?” he asked, tapping the glass to point at it. “That’s mine.”

“ _ Yours? _ ” you asked, incredulously, looking at Jack like he was insane. You took a deep breath, then looked back out the window. “I think this whole thing is starting to settle in a little bit now.”

“And we still have quite a few more surprises to get to,” Jack responded. “We haven’t even gotten to the whole cool tech part of it.”

“Fuck me,” you mumbled. “This is real, isn’t it? You’re actually a spy, and I’m actually going into intelligence.”

Jack hummed an affirmative answer. “And you’re going to do just fine at it. Hell, more’n fine.” He leaned over and kissed your cheek, pulling you out of staring at the hangar. “C’mon, Ginger’s waitin’ for us.”

You nodded, and Jack took your hand, walking you down the hallway several more yards. You came to a door leading to what appeared to be a sort of hodge-podge of a laboratory. There were monitors on the walls, a small medical area, and shelves of neatly organized items that you assumed were important to whatever this Ginger person did. It didn’t seem to just be medical, though, it looked like… electrical, chemical, all sorts of things.

There was a woman sitting at a desk, looking intently at the monitors along one wall that were displaying a wide array of information that you couldn’t discern from a cursory look. Before you got a chance to look into it further, though, Jack cleared his throat and the woman jumped.

“Oh, my god, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said quickly, spinning around in her chair and standing up. You recognized her immediately; the woman you thought was a detective you’d never met who was at the scene after Jack got shot at. She extended her hand to you. “I’m Ginger Ale.”

You blinked, and then shook her hand, giving her your name. “I’m beginning to see a theme in the code names here.”

Ginger smiled a little wider. “I mean, this is technically a distillery, so,” she said, shrugging a little. “If you want, you can call me Jasmine. That’s my real name. Jasmine McLaughlin. I gotta say, I was excited when you got cleared to join our team. I’ve read some of your articles in passing, and I was always really impressed with your work.”

“Oh, well, thank you!” you responded, feeling a little bashful under the praise. Maybe this won’t be so bad, after all.

“You’ll be a good fit, I can already tell,” she said. “Now, I have a few tests I’m gonna need to run, and we’ll need to do a physical. We can do it now, if you have the--” she paused mid-sentence, and looked over your shoulder. “Alright, well, I think we’ll have to do one more introduction, and then we can talk tests.”

You turned around to where this person was apparently making their entrance. A man entered, light skin, a couple inches taller than Jack and a bit more muscular. With his denim jacket and cowboy hat, he looked like the posterboy for Southern ranchers. He sauntered in with immeasurable confidence, and slapped Jack on the shoulder, smirking as he looked at you.

“I remember givin’ Jack shit about likin’ you after your first little tour here,” he said. “He had a crush on you from the moment you walked into the main buildin’.” You chuckled a little and looked at Jack, who rolled his eyes dramatically. “Definitely wouldn’t’ve guessed you’d be joinin’ the team in a few months, though. I’m Tequila.” He stepped forward, then, and held his hand out to you. You shook it, and once again, gave your name. “My real name’s Joe Raven, but you can call me whatever you like.”

Jack grumbled something and elbowed Tequila in the ribs, hard enough to make him grunt, but it was ultimately followed by laughter. You gave Jack a look that communicated you were more amused with the exchange than anything.

While Tequila was introducing himself, an alert appeared on the monitors Ginger was working at before you and Jack came in. She walked over to investigate. Well, it was the information she was looking for, definitely, but it certainly wasn’t what she was expecting.

“Jack?” she called, motioning behind her for him to come over. You watched him approach quickly, eyes locked on the monitor.

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Jack mumbled, looking at Ginger in some confusion but mostly surprise.

“Well, looks like the tests are gonna wait for a few more minutes,” Ginger said, turning to you. “And today’s gonna be a little more than just a tour. Ready to help with your first investigation?”

Your eyes widened. Already?  _ Now? _ You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, let’s do this. What’s up?”

“We know who broke into your apartment.”


End file.
